


Tasting Obsession

by Freyjabee



Series: Sleeping Sickness [1]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Angst, Bullying, Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Fear, Horror, Internet Romance, Mystery, Obsession, Texting, relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 13:51:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16577735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freyjabee/pseuds/Freyjabee
Summary: Obsession can drive you mad.





	1. Chapter 1

Need you

Dream you

Find you

Taste you

Fuck you

Use you

Scar you

Break you

Lose me

Hate me

Smash me

Erase me

_Kill me_

_Kill me_

_Kill me_

* * *

_I haven't stopped thinking about u all day._

_-Me, neither._

_When it's just me, I pull up the picture you sent me._

_-Yeah?_

_I want more._

_-Maybe I could send another._

_Without the bra this time?_

Lisanna's stomach turned upside down.

- _You really want to see?_

_YES_.

She tapped her fingers over her phone nervously— _eagerly_. She wasn't a fool, though.

- _Send me some pictures first?_

She got back a huge grin emoji. Seconds passed with no further communication, then her phone buzzed. She was so startled, she almost dropped it on her face. She glanced at the thumbnail and saw so much pink, it was almost unsettling. She clutched her phone to her chest and looked around the room. It was empty except for her, of course, and the door was locked. She picked up the phone again and opened the text.

She'd seen dicks before, of course. She'd watched porn, but there was something very not staged about this one. The lighting was bad. The camera was too close, making it look monstrous, and it was so hard, it was veiny and purple on top.

She was almost scared. She was almost excited, too. Not as excited as he seemed to be at the prospect of seeing her, but _thrilled_. She was doing something naughty.

_Yours now?_

Lisanna blew him a kiss emoji and pulled up her camera. She had a large headboard and could prop it up. She filmed herself getting onto her knees and lifting her tank top up over her head. she didn't look at the camera, she was too shy, but she did reach behind her back and unclasp her bra like she promised.

She made a show of it, going slowly until her breasts were free, and then grabbing them and pushing them together playfully; she'd seen a porn star do that once. Her partner was a woman, but Lisanna figured that men liked the same kind of thing. She even put her hand inside her underwear and circled the nub between her legs twice before turning off the recording and sending the snap.

More long minutes passed. She kept massaging herself until finally, she got a recording in return. She decided Flare was wrong, men were pretty in their own way. She definitely enjoyed her partner pleasuring himself.

He came; it shot on his fit stomach and Lisanna found she could come, too. She recorded that for him. it seemed only fair, after all.

* * *

Flare rubbed a heart-red cherry over her heart-shaped lips. Her mouth cracked open and Lisanna thought the same thing she _always_ thought. Flare was put-you-in-a-coma beautiful when she wasn't being mean.

"Do you still talk to that guy you met in that support group?"

Lisanna shrugged and lied the lie she'd practiced in the mirror. "Not really."

"No? Why not?" It sounded innocent enough but Lisanna knew the question was suspicious and barbed,

"He started asking for pictures." She'd sent one long before he asked, on a whim because she thought he was nice. The first was decent enough, her on a park bench enjoying the spring.

"Pig," Flare muttered. "Just like I said."

"You were right." Lisanna lowered onto her bed and Flare sat down beside her. They put on _The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus._

"That's what men do to girls like us," Flare told her at the end. Lisanna couldn't say if she was right or not, but she wasn't sure if it mattered. If she wanted to be that girl, then so what?

* * *

Lisanna picked up her phone and saw she'd been sent three hearts.

-Hey!

_Have a good day?_

Lisanna turned the light of her phone all the way down so she wouldn't wake Flare up.

_-It was okay._

_Just okay?_

_-My friend thinks you're a creep. She says I should stay away from you._

_…What do you think?_

She considered her answer.

_-I think we met in a support group. The only people that go there are the ones that want to get better or the ones that prey on those people._

_If it's making you uncomfortable, we can stop talking._

Did that sound like an offer from a man that was just trying to use her? She decided not. Aside from Flare, he was the only friend she had and Mira wanted her to be more social.

- _I like talking to you._

_:) I like talking to you, too._

Flare took in a deep breath and rolled over. Lisanna froze with her phone in her hand.

"What is it?" Flare muttered.

"Nothing. Just Mira telling me she's just left work now," Lisanna covered.

"Oh." Flare put her arm around Lisanna's middle and pulled her in. She left a kiss on Lisanna's neck, just at her hairline. Lisanna put her phone down on the nightstand and closed her eyes. Sandman grabbed her up and carted her off.

* * *

She got a selfie from him the next morning. He was standing in his room, facing a long mirror, with his phone held up. He'd gotten rid of the dog collar she knew he was fond of and put on a tie instead. He wore a collared black shirt and black pants and still had eyeliner beneath his eyes. She loved the green of his irises; you could see the colour even in the mirror, from far away.

_What do ya think?_

_-You look really, really good. What's the occasion?_

_Just trying on my suit for graduation. What are you going to wear?_

Graduation was still a year away for her. She chewed her lips and debated upon lying. That wasn't something they'd talked about, though she supposed that they _should_ have.

_Hello?_

She wasn't a very good liar. Fooling Flare was about as good as it got. _-I go next year._

_Oh,_ was his response a moment later. _I thought you were older._

_-I turn eighteen soon._

Six months but who was counting?

- _Is that okay?_

She didn't get another response from him.

* * *

Flare always had her fingernails painted. It was like she had an unending supply of differing nail polish. She changed colour every few days because she couldn't decide on something she liked. That was part of her condition, Lisanna knew. She was always searching for herself, and always messing with her image. The only thing that stayed consistent was the long, webby ropes of her red, red hair.

She'd change her style, the way she smiled, she'd change her makeup and the way she styled her hair. She'd look at herself in the mirror and wait for feedback, and then she'd skip her meals three days in a row, though she'd push her food around her plate and make it _look_ like she'd touched it.

Lisanna tried a time or two. She'd get twelve hours into fasting and she'd get so dizzy, she'd pass out. Mira thought it was because it was really hot those days. Lisanna didn't dare correct her; she was so worried. If she heard _I was trying anorexia because Flare does it sometimes,_ she was sure she wouldn't get to see Flare anymore.

Lisanna's phone buzzed. Her heart skipped several beats. It buzzed again.

Flare had been braiding Lisanna's hair but now she stopped. "Aren't you going to check that?"

"Yeah." Lisanna picked up the phone and flipped it over. A familiar name was on the text screen.

_Sorry,_ his message read. _I spilled coke on my phone, lol! It fried it. Took me a couple of days to get a new one._

_-Really?_

_Yeah. I didn't mean to disappear._

"Who's that?"

"One of Elfman's friends," Lisanna lied again. "He was looking for Elfman because he wasn't answering his phone."

"Oh." Flare's fingers made tight Lisanna's French braids. She had a headache afterwards. Flare insisted she do her hair, too, once she was done. It took _hours_ to put it all in ringlets just for Flare to sit by the lake in a bikini. She smiled at the boys and then kissed Lisanna in overt ways, though Lisanna was afraid of someone seeing and telling her sister.

Flare needed the attention. She needed boys to stop and be obnoxious and she needed to _cut_ them down. She needed them to want her and she needed to deny them.

Lisanna didn't get it.

"We could just go back to my house."

"Your brother's there."

"So? He won't bother us, he's writing a paper," Lisanna said.

Flare turned on her towel and said, "Undo me?"

Lisanna sighed and untied the straps on her bikini. While Flare's head was turned away and her eyes were closed, she checked her phone. Her friend had texted her again, another picture of him in his graduation suit. This one was a little more explicit, the buttons undone and his hair mussed like he'd either just woken up or he'd been doing things she wanted to know about.

_Where you at?_

She lay back and took the best selfie she could, getting her and the water in the shot. She got back heart eyed emojis.

_More?_

She smiled despite herself.

_-Later._

* * *

_Maybe I can get your real name now._

They'd shared so much; it was weird to think he didn't know her _real_ name.

_-Lol. Lisanna._

_I'm Bickslow. Where are you from, Lisanna?_

_-We're not supposed to tell each other that._

_We're also not supposed to be snapping the kind of pictures we've been snapping. Or telling each other our names._

No.

_-Magnolia. You?_

_No way. I'm in Clover._

Lisanna's heart palpitated _again_. She'd never get tired of that feeling.

- _You're really close to me._

_We should meet._

This time, it was her that didn't respond.

* * *

"You've been really distant lately."

"Hm?"

"I _said,_ you've been really distant lately," Mira reiterated.

Lisanna looked up from her plate of untouched food. "Just thinking about stuff, I guess."

"How's school going?"

"It's okay."

"No one's picking on you again, are they?"

No one had _dared_ pick on her since she and Flare became friends. The last guy that tried, Flare took her soda and threw it in his face, covering him with freezing, sticky pop. "No."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Mira."

"Because you can tell me, you don't have to be ashamed."

"I'm _fine._ "

Mira sat back and it seemed the conversation was over. Then she asked, "Have you talked to Natsu recently?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Lisanna shrugged. "He's busy, I guess." Too busy to talk to her, it seemed.

She _knew_ it wasn't fair to feel slighted, he had a lot of stuff going on with his family, but she _did_. She wanted everything to be the way it was.

Her phone vibrated between her legs. She picked it up and saw it was Flare. She wanted to come over.

"Can Flare spend the night?"

"Again?"

Lisanna shrugged.

"Alright," Mira agreed. "But don't be too loud, I have to work early tomorrow."

* * *

Lisanna sucked on her straw and held lime slushy in her mouth. The sun baked gum and stray Maltesers to the pavement. It was _hot._ Her hair clung to the back of her neck and the short skirt she wore did _nothing_ to cool her down. Her legs were clammy and slick with sweat between.

Flare didn't seem to mind the heat. She basked like a lizard, arms out, head back, heart-shaped glasses on her nose and a huge sun hat on her head. She was going for lazy chic today, wearing a romper that was mostly black lace. She sucked on a lollipop and watched the cars go by. Wind took her hair and daisy-chained it.

"What did your sister say when you told her I was coming over again?"

"Nothing, really," Lisanna said. "But she asked if I still talked to Natsu."

Her nose scrunched. "Why?"

"He's my best friend."

"Was. Now you have me."

Lisanna let the slurping of her slushy and the noise of the city fill the space between them. Then she said, "I think I'm going to call him tonight and see how he's doing."

"Why? He hasn't called _you_."

Lisanna chewed on her straw hard enough her teeth marks were left behind. "I always call him."

"Exactly."

A kitten wandered out from behind a garbage can and went after a piece of pepperoni someone had thrown out into the street. A sedan hit it. Lisanna cried; Flare watched it with a blank expression.

* * *

Flare was showering when Lisanna called Natsu. His phone went to voicemail. She left a quick message, though she wasn't sure he was going to call her back. The last time she'd talked to him, he'd met someone. Her name was Lucy, she liked the stars.

She debated on turning off her phone and setting up a movie, but her snapchat app was under her thumb and it seemed silly not to open it. She took a picture of herself. The tears had dried and her makeup was washed off. Now, you couldn't even tell she'd had a shitty day.

She got a response immediately.

_That's the best thing I've seen all day._

Lisanna smiled a little.

_-I think I needed that._

_Bad day?_

_-A little._

_Were people bothering you again?_

_-No. I haven't been bullied in a long time. Months now._

_What about by that girl?_

_-Girl?_

_Flare?_

_-She doesn't bully me._

_That therapist said there was a lot of different kinds of bullying. Telling you who you can be friends with counts._

_-She doesn't bully me._

_Okay._

To prove herself, Lisanna asked,

- _did you want to meet?_

_Of course I do._

_-This weekend? Saturday? At the coffee shop on Main Street?_

_I can get there for six._

_-AM?_

_Lol. PM._

Her cheeks heated.

_-Okay._

The shower shut off and the curtain peeled back.

_-I'll message you later._

_Alright._

Flare looked at the phone in Lisanna's hand when she came out. "What did he say?"

"He didn't answer."

"I didn't think he would." She came to the bed and put her knees on either side of Lisanna's legs. "But like I said, you have me." Her lips were damp and warm, her hair was damp and cold. Lisanna kissed her back and touched her, but at inconvenient times, she'd think about the cat or about Bickslow's warning.

* * *

It was _late_ when Lisanna woke to the sound of Flare sniffling. She sat up and searched for the lamp. She had to squint when it came on, but her eyes adjusted quickly. Flare was sitting on the floor in her tank top and underwear, her knees to her chest and Lisanna's phone in her hand. Her face was blotchy and red.

"What are you doing?"

"Reading through all your fucking messages, what does it look like?"

Lisanna's chest cinched. "Why? Why would you do that?"

Flare turned off the waterworks like she'd flipped a switch. "The better question is why would you lie to me?" Her voice was loud; she'd wake up the house if she kept that up. Lisanna was worried but she was angrier.

"Maybe because I knew you'd react like this."

"How would _you_ react if you found this kind of stuff on my phone?"

"I wouldn't have found it because I wouldn't have been snooping," Lisanna snapped.

Flare stood. Her face was a mean and unrecognizable mask. Lisanna tensed. She'd been hit before and thought she was prepared for it. She wasn't prepared for the phone whipped at her face. It hit her on the cheek and her eyes immediately watered.

"You're a slut." Flare didn't even trip into her romper. She grabbed all of her things and she left. Mira appeared at the door. She saw Lisanna, then chased after Flare. There was a lot of yelling in the street. Someone honked. Elfman came in and assessed the damage done to Lisanna's cheek. He announced,

"Just a bruise." His voice was steady but oddly enough, it was that steadiness that made Lisanna cry on his shoulder.

Mira returned five minutes later, sweaty and red-cheeked. She cleaned herself up before demanding an explanation. Lisanna only gave her a quarter of it. She didn't need to know the details of her and Bickslow's conversations.

* * *

Though Lisanna waited, Natsu didn't call her back. He emailed her a day after she left the message, though, and told her that he got it and that he'd be in contact soon unless it was an emergency. That was almost good enough. She told him no rush.

She talked to Bickslow sparsely in that time and they kept everything above-grade. She leaned on him like she was supposed to and told him about Flare's outburst. He finally told her why he was in the group. Him and his friend were hazed for being bi and then he watched that same friend commit suicide. Lisanna didn't know what to say. She had mean notes left in her locker, soap put in her fries, she was made to push a penny across the ground when she was in grade nine as initiation, she was called a slut and she was called a dyke and she was called other mean things. She'd thought about ending it all but it never really seemed worth it.

- _I'm sorry._

_Me, too._

She felt a little bit closer to him after that, in a way that naughty pictures and sexting just couldn't touch.

_Sometimes, I just want to run away from it all._

_-Sometimes, I want to run away, too._

* * *

Saturday was a whirlwind when Lisanna reflected on it, though as the minutes ticked by on the clock, it felt _slow._

"Are you sure you don't want a drive?"

"I'm sure."

"And you're going to be where?"

"The coffee shop on Main," Lisanna repeated. It was the sixth time. She'd counted.

"In?"

"Magnolia, Mira. I'm not even leaving the city," Lisanna fussed.

"And you're going to _stay_ there where it's nice and public?"

"Oh, my god. I'll be fine. Literally, it's two minutes down the road from your work and it's like five from our house."

"You're not bringing him back here alone, right?" Elfman piped up.

Lisanna glowered. Elfman took it on the chin unflinchingly. "We're going to the _coffee_ shop. We're meeting up, having a cup of coffee," or hot chocolate. She didn't like coffee. "—and then he's going to get back on the bus and go back to Clover and I'm going to come back home."

"I'll pick you up," Mira offered. "I have the car today because I have to do some errands."

Lisanna knew her sister wouldn't let her go without doing at least that. She conceded. Mira kissed her on the cheek.

Lisanna raided Mira's closet before she left. All the dresses she had were pink and blue and she thought Bickslow would prefer something with a little more black in it. She thought about borrowing Mira's makeup, too, but she didn't want to be just like Flare anymore, always changing everything about her look.

* * *

It wasn't supposed to thunderstorm. When Lisanna checked, there was a thirty percent chance. Now, though, the clouds were pregnant with rain and the sky was growling so hard, she could feel it through the soles of her ballet flats.

She hurried down the gravel path that would take her into town. She would have jogged if it wasn't insanely hot out. She was having a hard enough time keeping her hair wavy. It kept trying to fall out in the humidity so she'd hair sprayed the fuck out of it and hoped for the best.

Mira's dress was a T-shirt style. Short-sleeved, though lacy up top with a solid black collar. Lisanna hadn't seen her wear it in years. She loved it. It probably didn't look _as_ good on her. She wasn't as heavy as her sister was. Flare always wanted to _watch what she ate_ , and so Lisanna did, too.

_I'm eating a donut,_ she thought as she leapt over a tree root. _And if Bickslow doesn't like it…_

He hadn't shown any indication that he didn't like it, though. She let the thought dissipate.

The path made way for the main drag and there, on the corner, was Cora's Café. And sitting outside despite the rain was Bickslow, under the awning of a huge red umbrella. He was leaning back in his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him, and there was a cigarette in his hand. He puffed on it periodically and left black lipstick marks on the cylinder. She liked it. She even liked how the center of his lip was now pink again. He licked his lips and she saw a tattoo on his _tongue,_ of all places. She liked that immediately, too. She'd never known anyone so daring or dangerous. It was hard to believe that _anyone ever_ harassed him.

He looked up and saw her and he grinned, flashing a silver lip ring. She liked _that_ , as well. He looked her over and she knew he wasn't lying in his snaps. He did like her. He liked everything about her. It didn't matter to him that she was everyone's go-to punching bag, the only Strauss that was shy and introverted and gave it away too easily to another girl when she was only eleven and the girl was sixteen.

For the first time in months, she approached with her head held high.

* * *

Lisanna was nervous at first and afraid that they'd have nothing to talk about but all of Bickslow's favourite bands Lisanna knew because Mira listened to them, too, and all of his favourite food she'd had before and liked equally as much.

He had good grades, though a lot of people thought he was trouble. He liked that, though. If they thought he was trouble, they didn't bother him. He lived with his friend Laxus, they shared an apartment in downtown Clover because both of their parents were complete fuckups. Lisanna admitted that hers were dead.

They shared a cinnamon bun.

"You look like that's the best thing you've had in years."

"Flare didn't let me eat cinnamon buns," she said.

"Didn't _let_ you?"

"She was worried about being fat."

"You're not fat."

"I said she was worried about _getting_ fat."

"There are worse things."

There were.

Bickslow pulled out a package of cigarettes and held it out to her. "Do you smoke?"

"I'd try it."

He looked like he might argue. Then he shrugged. "Yeah. Why not try it for yourself?"

What he really meant was, _make your own decision_. She tried it. She didn't inhale. It still made her head light and fuzzy.

Bickslow checked his watch. "We should do this again."

"Are you going?"

"It's eight. The last bus leaves in twenty minutes and it's a fifteen-minute walk there."

She almost told him to come over. Neither Elfman or Mira would ever approve, though. "When can we do this again?"

"Next Saturday?"

She nodded; it could have been too eagerly.

Bickslow was awkward for a moment. Then he leaned forward and laid his mouth against hers. It was the first kiss she'd ever gotten from a boy and it was weird. His lips were flatter than Flare's and his short whiskers pricked her skin. That was nice, too, though, in a way, and when he tried to pull away, she sought entry into his mouth to keep him there. He was surprised at first, but then he kissed her back, putting his fingers into her flattening hair and moving his lips slowly in a way that _could_ have been chaste if they weren't on a deck in front of a restaurant full of people.

Lisanna was flying high afterwards. She paid for her food and said goodbye to Bickslow. He kissed her again. More civilly. And then she was alone at her table. She checked her phone. Mira had texted her.

_I just got a flat._

_-That's okay_ , Lisanna answered back. _Bickslow's gone. I'll just walk home._

_It's_ raining.

And it had been the entire time they were out on the patio. The rain didn't bother her any. She said, _But the thunder's gone._

_Are you sure? I could send a cab and Elfman could pay for it when you get home._

_-It's a waste of money. I can walk there in five._

Lisanna could practically _hear_ her sister sighing. _Alright. Be careful._

On the street wasn't so bad but when she got onto the forest path, Lisanna fully appreciated how much the sun had set and how _dark_ the rainy clouds made it. She used her phone's flashlight to keep her from tripping on vines and roots and stuck strictly to the path.

Half-way home, Lisanna heard a sound to her left. She looked that way and saw a person but she couldn't get her flashlight up fast enough to see their features. The left side of her head exploded in pain. Again, and her vision went black.


	2. Chapter 2

They'll talk about us and discover,

How we kissed and killed each other

* * *

On day one, the police officers spoke factually but optimistically. They hadn't found any evidence of foul play just yet. They had witness accounts to say that Bickslow went one way, Lisanna went the other. Where it got fuzzy was where she stepped off the main road and onto the walking path that separated suburbia from the urban centre.

Day two, when the sun was up, they found a pin that had always been on Lisanna's bag. It came on a vinyl album Mira bought years ago. Mira took it home and cried over it for three hours. Elfman pried it out of her hand and set it on her dresser. He climbed into bed with her after and folded around her like he could keep her together when she felt like she was falling apart.

Day three, some pedestrian found Lisanna's phone washed up in a storm drain two towns over in Clover. Its screen was broken, Mira could see the large crack down its centre and the grey void of space behind the glass.

She was physically sick after. She was just standing at the sink, the hot water running as she tried—ineffectually—to do dishes. Her mind was racing, going through her last conversations with her sister. Her flat tire. There had been a huge rail spike in the sidewall that someone must have put in there.

Her thoughts skipped over and she was thinking about Lisanna walking home alone in the rain, with her little ballet flats, black with a light blue bow. Her feet must have been wet.

Her mind jogged again and she wondered if Lisanna bent over to help a snail across the path as she usually did. Mira used to tease her for it. Lisanna thought it'd bring her good karma.

Saving snails or worms never stopped people from teasing her, though, or when teasing turned to bullying. Why? Why was she a target? Was it _because_ she was so sweet? Did the world just want to grab people like that up and tear them apart?

Mira had a vivid memory and could perfectly recall the first day Lisanna came home with scraped knees because someone had pushed her to the ground. And the day she'd _watched_ one of Lisanna's classmates pretend to—jokingly, they claimed—push her out into oncoming traffic. Lisanna had dropped to the curb to keep it from happening and Mira had broken away from her friends and hit that boy.

She was all at once _sure_ someone had hurt Lisanna. Bile rose in her throat and there was no stopping it. She'd eaten very little; she mostly just gagged and sobbed. Elfman came and shut off the water and held her because her legs just wouldn't lock anymore.

The police called that evening to say they'd gotten into Lisanna's phone. There were pictures, sexual in nature, and there were lengthy chats with a boy named Bickslow. They'd talked about running away.

"Lisanna would never do that."

"Sometimes, the people we think we know portray themselves differently when they're not around their loved ones," said a detective whose name Mira didn't remember.

"Don't fucking tell me who my sister is. I _know_. I know Lisanna wouldn't _run away_. Someone's hurt her. She's hurt somewhere. She needs your help. She—"

"We're doing everything we can, Miss Strauss. We need to pursue this avenue, though."

At the beginning of day four, six-fourteen in the morning, they pulled her out of the stormwater pond upstream of where her phone was found. A jogger found her.

Mira couldn't hear the police officers tell her if there was any sign of forced sexual contact.

They brought in Bickslow for questioning, and then they arrested him, the poor quiet boy with too many tattoos and a piercing or two. They liked him for the music he listened to and the dark art on his walls. For the knives he kept and his history. He'd always been strange, but after his best friend killed himself in front of him, he'd been downright _lunatic_.

"Just because a person wears black and listens to dark music, doesn't mean that he _hurt_ her," Mira said because something just didn't _feel right._

"It's him because who else would it be?" Elfman said.

It was the best option.

The funeral was small. Natsu came, and Zeref. Flare made an appearance, too. Mira hated that, but she couldn't tell her to go away, could she?

She watched Flare go to the closed casket and drape herself over it. Her red hair was violent against the dreary black coffin. She sobbed, and when she sobbed, Mira thought she _felt_ her grief. She stood, though, and walked out just as suddenly as she'd walked in, and as she passed, Mira saw there were no tears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part one of an ongoing series, each story following a new character, the events of each story building off one another into a cumulative concoction. Everything will be posted to my profile here on AO3. Thanks so much for reading, and preemptively for any kudos and reviews I may receive. Those are the lifeblood of every author.


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